A New Year's Serve

[bottle]

In Earlier Days at TennisPlayer

Bungalo Bill and I were locked in mortal debate. He had been, I believe, in the stable of Vic Braden teaching pros. Me, I had been the crew coach at Skidmore College and West Virginia University.

One day I got an email from Ben Ford, a tour technician who decided to recognize me as a fellow technician although he purposefully misspelled the word as "technition."

I was amazed to learn that in this big world there could be such a thing as a tour technition, a person who travels with the famous touring pros we all love too much.

I think now of a herd of stampeding caribou. The stragglers and puny ones at the edge or rear are likely to be picked off by a wolf, a lion, or a tennis technition.

Middling or lower ranked tour players, it seemed to me-- the ones about to go into Real Estate-- were Ben's prime customers.

They would come to him and explain that since they couldn't win, could he maybe give them a new stroke or two?

He then (and he explained this part to me so I am not guessing here), did what I used to do-- self-feed, hit a wall, use a ball machine while designing all the way.

The dozen crack-ridden Rouge River Park courts in Detroit do not come with a ball machine but I still do the other stuff before deeming myself ready to travel to where there are players besides myself.

And I like to name any new stroke I come up with, always have, as part of an effort to give it identity, hence edge.

Should you give some thing a nice name or a cold number? A cold number for a hurricane according to one of my seventh grade students.

Well, Ben followed my arguments for a while. In Bungalo Bill, he said, I had run into a cut shot artist. And Bungalo and bottle both knew enough tennis to be dangerous.

Dangerous? Just the opposite of innocuous as in the previous post. So which is it, reader, you decide.

I'll tell you this. My old forehand, The Ziegenfuss, carried a lot of arm before body pivot took over-- same idea as an Ellie-bam.

And if you believe, as I do, that arm work independent from bod is essential to Federfores and other more modern forehands, that arm work may best be delivered in a longitudinal way, i.e., from butt of racket to its tip.

This scheme makes racket spiral inside out to rise on outer edge of the ball.

[bottle]

Have you noticed that nobody participates in your innocuous nonsense?

The important thing is that I keep going. Whether anybody reads me doesn't matter.

(Hmm, let me see, 57,756 views as of today.)

[bottle]

Oughtta quit right there, right? Usually, though, I do whatever I feel like.

[bottle]

Higganum, Connecticut, 1950's

I flirt with Patty Gessner. Another guy likes Patty too. During recess, out on the playground, he picks a fight. We're throwing roundhouse haymakers and missing by a lot. Suddenly I feel a pair of arms clamp my own arms to my side. It is the seventh grade teacher. He keeps my arms pinned while the other guy hits me.

That's how it felt recently in the forum when I wasn't reading don_budge's posts but he was reading mine and reacting in his inimitable fashion.

Well, never mind. In a few years Patty and I and the guy who hit me found ourselves in another school seven miles up the river in Middletown.

Hope, my recent partner, was in that school too. But it was time for Patty and me to graduate, and Patty's mother had written the graduation song.

We are leaving Central school-- ooh ah ooh.
And we hate to go away-- ah ooh ah.
We've enjoyed our brand new school-- ooh ah ooh.
And we wish that we could stay-- ooh ooh ooh.

The years have passed,
We're here at last
Now leaving dear old C.G.S. (Central Grammar School).
Though there's a tear
In every eye
We're moving on to separate lives.

CLASSMATES, now a fond farewell-- ah ooh ah,
For we hate to say goodbye.
We will all remember you-- ooh ah ooh.
Even though we say adieu
Even though we say adieu.

[bottle]

Answer to a Question

Because you can't leave anything alone.

[bottle]

Too Much

Too much sentimental slobbering over highly ranked tennis players. What you got for all of us other tennis players?

[bottle]

Nazi Goons

Nazi goons were not exactly known for their good sense of humor.

[bottle]

Puntzie Sounds All Right

It's the organism that takes walks with Puntzie that needs re-tooling and re-work.

[bottle]

On Your Mark

It's a new day. Get set. Go.

[bottle]

I think the tennis rancor in the forum has gotten worse not better over the years, John Yandell. Nabrug was definitely the worst, but these guys make Bungalo Bill seem like a teddy-bear. When I'm conversing with them I feel like the protagonist in DARKNESS AT NOON by Arthur Koestler. I'm sorry if it offends too much for me to say so, but I think of these two guys as big Nazi goons even if they have been among my most faithful readers.

[bottle]

So why were you interested in the number of my books sold?

[10splayer]

Just another avid fan who can't stay away from my posts. And even checks on the circulation figures for my books.

No really, I heard the bounce on interstates are very "true". Give it a shot.

[bottle]

Just another avid fan who can't stay away from my posts. And even checks on the circulation figures for my books.

[10splayer]

Possible answers, all better than any you offered:

1) It isn't "innocuous" but rather substantial if technical, and people would rather be entertained than have to think.

2) It isn't "nonsense" but rather honest first-hand report, and something that is not nonsense is not easily dismissed-- dismissal being the thing a lazy reader most wants.

3) It's very personal, as I've said many times. These are MY STROKES arrived at in a different way. One doesn't have to accept them-- I've never argued for that. The methodology or way of arriving at them might be the most interesting thing here since that could apply to anyone's development of individualized strokes, i.e., THEIR STROKES. It could lead to less cookie cutter stuff. And keep one passionately involved in the game.

4) They don't know how to do self-feed and therefore would find it boring as you did when you recently tried it. One needs a very specific purpose. That's what makes self-feed sing and excite.

5) They don't want to risk the ire of the great blustering Tennis Nazi, the one who DOES participate in every word I write here at TennisPlayer although he shouldn't, the horseboy who calls himself don_budge.

Speaking of self feeds, many of us would like to see you try that on an interstate highway.

[bottle]

Have you noticed that nobody participates in your innocuous nonsense?

Possible answers, all better than any you offered:

1) It isn't "innocuous" but rather substantial if technical, and people would rather be entertained than have to think.

2) It isn't "nonsense" but rather honest first-hand report, and something that is not nonsense is not easily dismissed-- dismissal being the thing a lazy reader most wants.

3) It's very personal, as I've said many times. These are MY STROKES arrived at in a different way. One doesn't have to accept them-- I've never argued for that. The methodology or way of arriving at them might be the most interesting thing here since that could apply to anyone's development of individualized strokes, i.e., THEIR STROKES. It could lead to less cookie cutter stuff. And keep one passionately involved in the game.

4) They don't know how to do self-feed and therefore would find it boring as you did when you recently tried it. One needs a very specific purpose. That's what makes self-feed sing and excite.

5) They don't want to risk the ire of the great blustering Tennis Nazi, the one who DOES participate in every word I write here at TennisPlayer although he shouldn't, the horseboy who calls himself don_budge.